Shift (The Disciples' Daughters #2) (3 page)

Hours later, I was in my room at home. Well, something like home anyway.

The farmhouse used to be the center of everything Disciples. It belonged to a former president of the club and during his time, it was where everything went down. Eventually, the club invested in the warehouse we’d converted into the current hub. The clubhouse was closer to town and the repair shop the club owned. It also had more space for the brothers and whoever else might be around.

Now, the farmhouse was fair game for brothers who wanted to live there. Everyone had rooms at the clubhouse, but they were usually for late nights when you needed to sleep it off. For the moment, there were four of us living in the farmhouse. Though, if Ash was coming, it would soon be five.

Fuck.

I tossed back the rest of my beer, unable to stop myself from going there. It didn’t matter what I said to Stone, Ash coming back was going to be a goddamn mess. There was no fucking way to avoid it.

Well, there was one fucking way. She’d done it just fine for the last five years, after all.

She’d probably just act like nothing fucking happened. Like she didn’t just up and disappear. Like nothing before that even mattered. Fuck, maybe it didn’t. Not to her. It had fucking well mattered to me, though. Once.

Hell, maybe it was time to make it not matter to me. She took off. Done. The fucking end. Anything that happened now didn’t matter.

She didn’t matter.

I told myself this like thinking it would make it true.

Still, when I stood in the bathroom after grabbing a shower, my hand moved over the uninked skin of my chest. The blank space—the tattoo I never got—felt more like a scar than anything else.

Ash was coming back.

Fuck.

“You gonna explain this shit, Firefly?” Roadrunner asked after several moments with nothing but the local news playing on the TV to break the silence between us.

I’d already agreed to go back to the club with him. It hadn’t taken much. Roadrunner had told me Stone, the club’s president, wanted to sit down and discuss the details once I was back there. In the meantime, he’d given me all I needed to know. Whatever threat the club was dealing with, it had been made clear they knew who I was and I was a target. I didn’t bother asking if I was the only person threatened, since I was sure I wasn’t. All that mattered was me being a target put Emmy at risk. The idea of going back terrified me, but nowhere near enough for me to consider endangering my daughter.

“I don’t know what to say,” I admitted, not looking his way.

“In the interest of full disclosure, the report the Mayhem boys gave us about where you were included you had a daughter. Still, seeing her that first time was a fucking shock.”

I imagined it was.

“Does Gabe know?” I asked, completely freaked. It wouldn’t matter for long. There was no way he wouldn’t find out about Emmy once we were there. Still, I wasn’t ready for him to know.

“Not yet,” Roadrunner answered, and I sighed in relief. “She’s his,” he stated.

“I don’t know.” It was an admission I didn’t want to make, even to myself.

Roadrunner’s body jerked, but I wouldn’t look. I would not face the confusion, the disappointment…whatever was going to be on his face.

“Ash…”

“Please, I don’t want to talk about that.” I wasn’t above begging, not when it came to this.

The news shifted to word of storms coming. Nothing but rain in the forecast as far out as they could guess.

Sounded about right.

“Okay,” Roadrunner finally said, then changed directions. “Why didn’t you come back? You didn’t have to do it alone. Even if you didn’t want the club, you could have called me. I’d have taken care of you.”

Tears welled in my eyes. I knew he would have, but I also knew there was no Disciple without the club. The club was a part of him; it was a part of all of them.

“You know I couldn’t have come to you, with her, and manage to keep him away,” I said.

He sighed. “Ash, I’ve been questioning it for a long time and I can’t figure it out. Why did you want to keep him away at all?”

That was the rub, wasn’t it?

“I didn’t want to. When I left…” I started, but then backtracked to admit the root of it all. “When dad died, I couldn’t be around the club anymore. I know you don’t see it the same way, but it felt like the club cost me my father. He was everything to me, you know that. He was the only…”

Crap.

I stopped there.

I almost said “he was the only family I had”, but that wasn’t true.

The man next to me, the one who came to find me after five years because I wasn’t safe, the one who was heartbroken by all he’d missed in my life—he was family.

I finally looked his way. His sad, whiskey-colored eyes were on mine. He knew what I was about to say. “No. I’m sorry,” I told him.

“I know, honey.”

I forced myself to go on. “I just…I couldn’t face the Disciples anymore. I didn’t want to leave Gabe. I never wanted to leave him. I asked him to come with me.”

“What?” Roadrunner was shocked.

I gave a sad nod. “He’d just become a prospect. You know what the club meant to him, what it always meant to him. He wouldn’t leave it behind. He begged me to stay, but I couldn’t.”

“I gotta tell you, Ash, his reaction didn’t seem like there had been a whole lot of discussion about this.”

I figured as much. “We talked about it, fought about it. I begged him to leave, he tried to get me to stay. Eventually, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to change his mind. I gave in, stopped fighting about it, then…” I trailed off.

“You left,” Roadrunner finished for me. “He thought you were giving in to staying, but you left without telling him.”

I couldn’t stop the tears anymore. There was no way. It had ripped my heart out to leave. That wound had never healed. It probably never would.

“Fuck,” he muttered, then his big arms were around me. I hadn’t been held, not by anyone but Emmy, in years.

“I don’t know how to handle this,” I admitted to his chest. “I don’t know what I can say to him.”

He smoothed a hand up and down my back. “You have to give him the truth.”

“He’ll hate me. He probably already hates me.”

Roadrunner sighed. “He’s not the same person he was before you left. Then, we lost Gunner and—”

I shot up. “What?”

“Shit. I forgot you didn’t know.”

He couldn’t have said that. It couldn’t be.

“It was probably about eight months after you left. Gunner was out on his bike. Got nailed by a drunk driver. They did what they could at the hospital, but we lost him a couple days later. Nearly destroyed the kid.”

No.

Gunner.

Gabe’s uncle.

The only family he had that mattered.

No. No. No.

“Oh god,” I sobbed.

I left him, and then he’d been forced to face the same loss I had.

What had I done?

That thought, that crushing reality coming down on me, had me spilling all. I told him nearly everything—or everything I could. I told him about leaving, about moving around, about finding out I was pregnant. I told him about raising Emmy alone and working any job I could get to support us.

There was one thing I didn’t tell him, though. One thing I knew he wanted to ask, but I refused to go there. I couldn’t.

We didn’t discuss who Emmy’s father was.

The next day, I was nearing a panic attack as I stared at the boxes I’d packed. There were four of them, though four more leaned against the wall, unconstructed. Roadrunner had brought them by that morning for me. Why he thought we would need eight moving boxes when we weren’t even bringing everything was beyond me. I’m not sure everything we owned would fill eight moving boxes.

Some things, including all the furniture, were staying in the apartment. The club, Roadrunner told me, would foot the bill for the rent for the time being. I had not been keen to accept, and I told him so, but it hadn’t gone over well. I was near to shouting at him for being so domineering while he accused me of being too stubborn to get by. I eventually gave in when he pointed out not only would we not be in residence because of the club’s problems, but also, because I would be leaving town, I had to quit my job. There was no way I would be able to pay the rent and he placed the blame for that on the Disciples.

So, after spending the evening pouring my guts out to Roadrunner, then us arguing over the details of my move, I’d given in. Emmy and I were leaving with him, going back to a home I barely knew and facing down the very real, very alive past I had been running from for years.

Roadrunner had a morning meet with the Mayhem Bringers, part of what brought him to Portland. The night before, he told me he would come by with the boxes early and I needed to sort everything out so we could leave when he came back in the early afternoon.

I’d done as he said and started the morning explaining to Emmy that we were going away for a while. That had been the hardest part.

“Where we goin’, Momma?”

How could I explain it all to her? I couldn’t very well tell her her grandpa was a biker who died for the club and left me alone, I took off because I couldn’t deal, and now that club was involved in some mess, making the two of us unsafe. First, she wouldn’t have understood bikers or the club. Second, I was not about to tell my three-nearly-four-year-old we were in danger.

Instead, I went with,
“There are people where we’re going who care about us. You haven’t met them, but they knew your grandpa. We’re going to stay with them for a while.”

Luckily, she’d accepted that as good enough.
“Okay.”

“I need you to help Mommy pack,”
I’d told her.

“What’s pack?”

“We need to get your toys ready to bring with us. Can you help with that?”

“Yeah!”

My girl, always Mommy’s little helper.

“I’m going to bring this box into your room. I need you to take the toys from your toy box and put them in the box. Okay?”

“Stuffies, too?”

“Stuffies, too,”
I’d confirmed.

“Okay!”

I had no idea the actual state of the box she’d put her toys in. Nothing of hers was fragile, so it would do. I’d just shut the flaps and taped it closed without thinking on it too much.

While she noisily packed up her toys—and took frequent breaks to play with them—I took on packing everything else. I brought all of my and Emmy’s clothes, not wanting to be without when I had no idea how long we would be gone. I even grabbed winter coats, though Emmy’s probably didn’t fit anymore. It was March. Things had warmed up, but weather was weird. If winter made a reappearance, I wanted to be ready. I was going to have no choice but to accept financial support from the club while we were there unless my protection was loose enough to allow me to work. However, that didn’t mean I wanted to ask the club for anything more than I had to. If I could avoid needing to buy clothes or coats, I was going to do so.

I packed up bedding for both of us, luckily finding non-pink sheets still in the closet. I hadn’t used sheets in over a year. Somehow, I’d managed to get Roadrunner out the door the night before without him cottoning on to the fact that I slept on the couch. The apartment was a one bedroom. It was all I could afford. There was a door in the hallway to a closet I assume Roadrunner thought led to my room. That was for the better. He seemed ill at ease about the state of our run-down place as it were, no need for him to blow up over me sleeping on the couch. And I knew he would blow up if he found out.

There wasn’t much besides the essentials and Emmy’s toys, so it was no problem getting everything boxed with time to spare. Which was good, seeing as packing wasn’t all I needed to accomplish before Roadrunner got back.

First, I had to take a trip down the hall to Jasmine’s. She was the only real friend I had and she was like an aunt to Emmy. She deserved more than a call to explain we were mysteriously taking off.

Jasmine knew all about my life before we moved in down the hall. Back before her mother’s health had gone south—Parkinson’s—she’d watched Emmy one evening so Jasmine and I could have a girls night. With loose lips granted by the grace of vodka, she’d gotten me to spill all—from growing up with the club to losing my dad to everything that had happened in between and since. It didn’t take long to make her understand why we were going.

She had just one concern.
“They’ll keep you both safe?”

“Yes.”
My answer was firm. Any reservations I had about it all aside, I knew the Disciples would protect us.

“So,”
she’d said, her eyes alight. I knew what was coming.
“You’re going to see him again. Gabe.”

“Yeah.”
And the thought had made my stomach churn.

“Are you ready for that?”

No. Never. It wasn’t possible to be ready for that.

“It was a long time ago. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

She gave me a droll look.
“Mmhmm. Keep tellin’ yourself that.”

I would. I was going to keep telling myself that until I started believing for a second it was true.

After goodbyes with Jasmine, I had to call the diner. I hated to put them in a bind by leaving without notice, but there was nothing to be done. Using the guise of a family emergency, I explained I had to leave town immediately and couldn’t say when I’d be back. Obviously, they were forced to let me go. Not surprising, but it still stung. Eventually, Emmy and I would be returning home, and what was I going to do about work when that time came?

I filed that concern away in the ever-increasing pile of crap I couldn’t face at the moment. There was no way to get around the circumstances, so there was no point in dwelling. When the time came, I would figure it out. I always had. I was a survivor.

A booming knock came at the door a moment before it swung open. Roadrunner stood there, his eyes assessing the boxes scattered in the living room. I’d given him my spare set of keys before he left last night so he could let himself in.

His eyes came to me. “All set?”

In terms of practicality, yes. Though, that said nothing for my emotional preparations. Still, I gave him a nod.

“Good deal,” he said. “Got a buddy from Mayhem downstairs to help load the truck.” He gave another glance around. “Not sure he’s needed, though. Sure this is everything you want to bring?”

It was my turn to inspect the space. Seeing as the few boxes sitting around us held nearly everything we owned besides the furniture, I was pretty sure. “Yeah, this is it.”

With the help of Vic, Roadrunner’s friend from the Mayhem Bringers, the boxes were loaded up in less than twenty minutes. Seeing as I found it extremely unlikely my hunk of junk would make the two hour drive, it wasn’t hard for Roadrunner to convince me to leave it behind. I transferred Emmy’s car seat from it to Roadrunner’s truck and we took off.

About an hour outside of Portland, Emmy was out cold. Something about the motion of a car always knocked my girl out quickly enough, which was fine by me. I wasn’t sure I had it in me to feign excitement for her. She saw this as an adventure; I saw it as us driving straight to hell.

Another hour passed in relative silence aside from the music Roadrunner played on low. I mustered up the courage to ask the question that had been plaguing me all night.

“Does Gabe know I’m coming?” I didn’t look his way when I asked. I didn’t want to see whatever his expression might tell me.

“They’ve told him by now,” he answered.

“But he wasn’t part of that decision,” I said, filling in the missing information.

“No, he wasn’t.”

I nodded without conviction, still looking out the window at the passing world.

“Best you know now, too,” Roadrunner put out there. I turned to look at him. “He doesn’t go by Gabe anymore. Won’t answer to it at all. Got his road name and hasn’t looked back. He’s Sketch now.”

Sketch. A new name for a man I no longer knew.